We've Been History
by Her Cheshire Smile
Summary: He had made a promise to her. And he planned on keeping it. What happens before, during, and after America murmured the immortal and heroic lines of "I shall return"? USxOC!Philippines. Short fic.
1. 01: The Inexplicably Painful Truth

**A/N: Did I just say I wasn't going to write? Well, I wanted to so I did. Yay. First Hetalia fan fic and first fanfic eveeeer. I wrote this while listening to the acoustic version of "James Dean & Audrey Hepburn" by the Sleeping With Sirens (I forgot the HTML code for links so here: watch?v=71SvPulAyZI), I don't like the band much but I do like the song. You should listen to it too.**

**Oh, and no. While I would love to have been creative enough to think of Hetalia myself, it is not mine. *pout* This was supposed to be a one-shot but darn it, I can not summarize my words. .  
**

* * *

"Get off of my land." she had said with a coldness that he had never seen before. Who was this person in front of her? What had happened to the charming and sweet girl he had been with only the night before? He closed his bright blue eyes and squeezed his temple, remembering how happy he – no, how happy they had both been mere hours ago.

_It was slowly getting dark and the lightly tanned, black haired girl was still sleeping on his lap after exhausting herself by talking so much. Their conversation had been playful and it made Alfred both happy and exasperated to find how quickly she figured out how to wield the blade of Sarcasm to make him seem foolish. He had no qualms, his antics – sulking included – made Maria tilt her head back to laugh and frankly, he couldn't ask for a better superpower than to be able to make her happy. That's what a hero does, isn't it? Use their power to make others happy?_

_He looked up; from where he sat against the trunk of a mango tree, he could see the North Star shining as splendidly as it always does. He felt like an idiot with the perpetual smile that seemed to be plastered on his face. He stroked Maria's long hair one last time before he let his hands drop to her face, caressing it before he finally tapped her cheek to nudge her awake. "Maria." He said softly. His companion grumbled and lay on her side, cuddling closer to him._

_"Maria." He said again. This time the girl slowly opened her eyes only to close again halfway through._

_Alfred let out a sigh and bent over, moving his face closer to hers, even now after he had confessed and found out how mutual the feeling of love was between them, just being close to her made him blush ferociously. "Maria, if you don't wake up now, I'm going to kiss you, my tropical Sleeping Beauty."_

_The girl's lips curled into a small smile, but her eyes remained closed. "What, you have other Sleeping Beauty's away from the equator?"_

_"Yes, I'm actually going to meet up with my Arctic princess next time I'm on my way home." He felt a stir, then soft lips on his. Maria had grabbed his collar and kissed her. Alfred blushed again; it was the first time she made the move._

_"Alfred, you bastard. I'll just have to make sure you won't go home then?" Alfred's eyes widened. Was that suggestive? His face grew redder and he noticed the Filipina was blushing now too, apparently realizing what she just said. "You pervert. No." she said as she let go off his collar and sat up. He couldn't help but smell the wonderful fragrance of her hair._

_He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the forehead, "Don't worry. I'll stay here as long as you need me, babe." He sat up afterwards and offered his hand to her, "Come on. Let's go. Antonio's mad at me enough, if he finds you here with me at this hour, the man will kill me."_

_"How can I trust you with my life if one man scares you this much?" she said, laughing that whimsical laugh of hers again as she took his hand and stood beside her._

_"No way, heroes don't get scared. We're fearless! I just… don't want to give your doting father a reason to think I'm not right for you." And at his own words, Alfred could feel the guilt buried deep in the recesses of his mind. Once news leaks out of his boss' orders, Spain will know he wasn't the best person. What scares him most is that Maria might think so too. He's going to explain it to her, he's determined to explain it to her by morning tomorrow, he just wants one good night alone with her._

How could he have known his time had ran out?


	2. 02: The Knife that Severs All Bonds

So here he was. In what used to be Spain's office within the walls of Intramuros and sitting across from him behind the desk was the girl who just hours ago thought of him as a hero, who just hours ago said she loved him back. She didn't try to hide the hatred in her eyes neither did she hide the papers that detailed America's claim on her that had apparently been sent to her overnight by an informant. He opened his eyes to meet hers; those brown eyes of hers that used to reflect the hero that he thought he was now reflected his guilt and increased the self-loathing he felt. "Maria, please let me explain."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Okay, Jones. Explain this shit to me." Her voice was hard and stern. Alfred was taken aback both by her formality and her swearing. _My sweet, innocent Maria, what did I do to you?_

"I promise your independence. Soon. But it's just that-"

"-it's just that you think I'm inferior. Is that it, Jones?" she felt obligated to continue, her voice dripping with blatant disgust.

"No, Mari-"

"You think I can't handle my country on my own. You think I won't be able to satisfy the need of my people. Do you know their needs, Jones? Do you want me to tell you?"

Alfred prepared himself, sure of what she was about to say.

"One, we need our freedom. Two, we need to feel safe in our own land without having to bend over backwards to make sure crap like you don't hurt us. Three, we need our own power." She paused, and then slammed her fist on the mahogany desk as she stood up. "We do not need your pity. We do not need your opinion. We do not need your power. And least of all," Alfred's hands balled into fists, bracing himself. "We do not need your love."

The loud smack of skin and skin colliding rang throughout the room. Alfred had slapped her, hard enough to knock her head back. She bent her head, he couldn't see her emotions. Oh god, was she crying? "Maria, I'm sorry. Please, please… C-can't we put this behind us? Don't you remember our time spent together? Don't you remember the memories of just yesterday?"

There was a pause. "Do you know what women do as a sign of moving on and forgetting, Jones?" Maria still had her head hung. Her breathing was even and deep. In one quick motion, she unsheathed her bolo from her waist and grabbed her hair; she slashed at it, cutting it just above her shoulders, missing her neck by mere inches. She held her hair in her hand, looked right into the blond man's eyes, she let go of the black curls and they fell straight into the trash can. "This is what they do, Jones. They cut off the part that they were most attached to; just like how they cut off the memories they want to forget."

Alfred could feel his heart break and even though he hates to show any sign of weakness, he let one stray tear fall. The look in her eyes were cold, stern, determined. "Don't make me say this again, Jones. Get off of my damn land."

He was exhausted to say the least. Did she realize how it wasn't in his original plan to claim her Philippines? Did she realize that the only reason he helped her in her revolt against Spain was because he was concerned for her, because he didn't want her to get her? Did she stop to realize that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as happy with the decision himself? He calmed himself, _a hero is fearless_, he reminded himself. "You realize that the Japanese are here, don't you?" he said in a monotone. He meant what he said the night before; he would stay with her until she needed him, regardless of how much she wanted him there.

"Yes. I'm well-aware."

"You realize that unlike Antonio," _… Or me_, he wanted to add. "who had deep feelings for you, the Japanese might not be as merciful to your people?"

"Yes."

"Your guerrilla tactics won't be enough this time, you know."

She flinched and sighed, for a second forgetting the fury she had for the man who was, surprisingly, pointing out logical deductions. She slumped back down on her seat and put a hand to her forehead, massaging it as she felt a headache coming through. She was anything but a person who thought of her future, she liked to live in the moment, per se and her emotions tended to weigh heavily on her during moments of critical thinking.

She stared at the blond across from her and noted that he wasn't wearing his signature bomber jacket. If anything, he looked very semi-formal for a man within range of an impending war with his sky blue polo and black slacks. For a moment, she let herself believe that those bright blue eyes assured her her protection, that his dazzling smile could somehow make the threat of a Japanese invasion disappear, that his mouth could say nothing else except for words of comfort and love. She wondered if she was making the right choice.

Will Alfred really give her the freedom that she has longed for? If so, how long will it take? Would she rather give her country to the man who had betrayed her or to the unknown and unpredictable Japanese? This was a crucial decision, she knows, but was it really for her to make? For 300 years, it was always Antonio who dealt with the difficult matters. And even during the revolution, all she did was support the heroes whose name will forever be immortal to her people. She was afraid, it wasn't in her nature to decide life-altering matters, heck, it wasn't even in her nature to be in a war, really. Unbidden tears welled up in her eyes from the thought that her decisions might threaten the well-being or lives of her people but she managed to fight the liquid crystals back.

"We'll manage to hold our own." she said with finality, both begging the man in front of her not to remind her of her future troubles and to leave her alone. But there was something in the way her tone changed, how she switched from a person able to command the greatest fleets with just the power of their voice to the fragile, considerate woman who wanted only the best for her people. Alfred noticed and decided not to push the matter any further.

He turned on his heels and slowly headed for the door. The sounds of his heavy footsteps echoed within the walls of the almost empty room. The American was practically dragging his feet, as if his body has not come to terms with his decision to oblige to her wishes. He stopped by the door, for a second noticing how incredibly cheesy and cliché his planned exit was. He took a deep breath as he changed his plan.

He turned his head to see her. She was sitting back in her chair and biting her thumb while her other hand drummed on the large desk in front of her, her now short hair covered her dark brown eyes but Alfred knew she was watching him leave.

He flashed a grin and gave her a thumbs-up. "I know my help's something you won't ever want to need, but I think I should tell you that whether you want me to or not, I will rush to your rescue," his grin grew wider, "like a hero rescues his leading lady."

_Get out, Jones._

He opened the door but lingered a moment further. "And I think this is pretty obvious but I promise you this won't be the last you'll see of me,"

_Oh, god. Get out, Alfred._

"When your heart calms from all the chaos and disorder, and you find it within yourself to forgive me," he continues, oblivious to the chaos and disorder he's causing within the girl's heart as they speak.

_Please, get out now, Alfred._

"I promise you. I shall and will return." With that he flashed a loving smile at her and left the room, closing the door gently as he did so.

_… Get out before my determination completely wavers from your words._ She couldn't fight them back anymore, her tears, and they fell continuously as she sobbed silently. She listened closely to his footsteps as they faded away in the empty corridors before she finally made an attempt to wipe at her tears. Her hands stayed over her eyes as she calmed herself. She had just lost something she didn't realize was that important to her. And it wasn't her hair.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I know the war against Japan was already on-going when McArthur said "I shall return." I really didn't plan this story out because, as I've mentioned, it was supposed to be a one-shot. I HAVE NO CONCRETE IDEA FOR A PLOT, oh my god. I just keep typing and typing. I hope you like my jibber-jabbering though. I am trying my best.**

**Let's see... I would like to thank Queen's Love of My Life for helping get me into the sad, mushy mood used in the chapter lol. **


	3. 03: The Art of Courtship

She was in a crowded room, not unlike the court of Intramuros or one of Arthur's fancy-shmancy gardens. She couldn't find a face she knew, she couldn't find a face at all. For some odd reason, she couldn't focus on anyone's face long enough for her to be able to pinpoint their features. The crowd around her seemed like a haze, an illusion, nonetheless Maria was feeling every bit anxious at the fact that she was mingling with such high society. Why was she here, she wondered. Who were these people, why did they seem to be noticing her every move if not blatantly looking at her? An irrational fear crept in; she shouldn't be there.

"Oh! Hey" said a smiling young blond in a smart suit as he caught a glimpse of her, he was the first and the only one whose face she can see. In a heartbeat, Maria found herself running with the blond, the man's hand holding onto hers as tightly as it could without hurting her. Looking down at the his hand, Maria could see the cloth beyond it, the dress she was wearing; it was in a shade of a pastel pink, she could see beautiful embroidered sampaguitas on the left side of the bell-shaped skirt, the fabric for the top was fixed in such a way that it looked like pink leaves were slowly surrounding her, and she could faintly feel the red ribbon tied around her waist and the bow it created behind her.

Ah, they were running away from the court, Maria noticed as she felt the crowd of people slowly fading into the background. She stopped and pulled at the man's hand. "Why are we running?" she asked him. The blond faced her and shot her a quizzical look, he tilted his head sideways, "We're not running," he said then laughed boisterously. "We're just going to the real party."

It was Maria's turn to be quizzical. "Alfred, what are you talking about?" There, his name was Alfred. Maria wondered how she could have possibly known that.

"This, this." He said rather playfully as he pointed to a large curtain hanging from somewhere she couldn't see – where did that come from? – he pulled the curtain away and what she saw left her dumbstruck. It was a battlefield and the fight was still furiously raging. The bodies of fallen men scattered the grounds and in such postures that Maria couldn't help imagine the gruesome way in which they died. Tears quickly sprung from her eyes and she violently looked away, willing the memory to just go and disappear.

A hand gently held her chin and forced her to look back at the fighting, "No, Maria, you have to look." Her hot tears were staining the man's hand and she couldn't pry her eyes away from the scene again. On one side of the battle, she could see men dressed in the clothes of her country, wearing dark green army uniforms and wielding guns, their trusted bolos were on their waists. On the other, she could see nothing but a flurry of swords, long and thin and slightly curved – the swords were known as katanas, the weapon of choice of their Japanese invaders.

She saw her countrymen fall and each time she was saddened. She saw the enemy fall and, while she should rejoice at the fact that they were decreasing in number, she was saddened for them as well. They stood there for what seemed an infinity; seeing an endless number of men and an endless number of fallen bodies. Without realizing, her tears had stopped flowing and the man's hand was no longer on her chin but holding her hand again. She looked at him, her eyes still bloodshot from crying, and was surprised to see him out of his dark suit and in a brown leather bomber jacket. His was empathetic. He noticed her movement and met her gaze, smiling weakly as he saw her.

"This is your present, Maria, and a ghost of your past as well." She didn't want it; she wanted nothing to do with all that sorrow. She couldn't possible live out her forever watching her man die one by one.

"… I promise you this won't be your future though." He continued, smiling widely and taking both her hands in his before forgetting himself and allowing him to hug her. The warmth of the act made the back of her eyes wet but she shed no more tears. She didn't respond either, why was this man so intent on lifting her spirits?

"You have to be brave, for me, babe." But how? Just a few moments of the battlefield had paralyzed her on the spot with fear. What did she have to be brave for, anyway? This man couldn't possibly be asking her to play a part in this. Was he out of his mind?

"At least until I come back." The numbness in her face faded away and she managed a look of complete surprise. Come back? Why would he need to come back? Didn't she pointedly tell Alfred never to show his face again? Was he attempting to return to her (once) peaceful islands and cause havoc again? She should slap him, she really should slap him for having the gall to disobey her; but Maria found neither the strength to release herself from his embrace nor the initial anger she felt for him. Alfred noticed the change of expression and laughed.

"I made a promise to you, didn't I?" Maria felt her heart shatter and consciousness took hold of her. The dream faded and she could see nothing but the familiar walls of her room in the growing light of morning. She felt something warm on her cheeks and knew immediately that she's been crying – again. How many times had that dream come to her subconscious mind and make her heart replace her anger at Alfred for hope that he'd make good on his promise?

"Senorita Maria, I beg your pardon…" a husky male voice said from behind her door, the same voice that had waked her, she presumed. It was one of the men with news of the guerrilla resistance. She stood and made ready to answer the door.

-

The man was going on and on about the success of the resistance and Maria knows it was of utmost importance but in the early morning, she just couldn't will herself to pay attention. She'd study the details later, she promised herself. While daydreaming about the things she'll do for the day, Maria was brought back to attention by the man's words. "- they're back. Senor Osmena came to meet them at Leyte." Maria stopped walking and stared at him, stunned because she had the tingling feeling of hope burning from deep within her. Could it be…?

"W-who's back? Who did Osmena meet with?" she said, not wanting to allow herself to feel this ridiculous feeling of hope. The man smirked at her, blatantly teasing her – for a moment, she wanted to punch his smug-looking face in – and said "You'll find out. They'll make their way to Luzon eventually."

She really wanted to punch his smug face in now.

-

"Y-you…" Maria was speechless to say the least. For one thing, she had just learned that without her knowledge the Filipino members of the resistance were sending him information. For another, when the man earlier said that they'll make their way to Luzon eventually, she hadn't hoped it would be this soon. Granted, months have passed since she acquired the knowledge, but she was still wasn't prepared.

The blond man in front of her was looking bashfully at the ceiling and putting his index fingers together as they sat across from each other. How was she supposed to react in such a situation?

"Didn't I tell you never to show your face again?" she snapped bitterly, she wasn't as angry but she was still slightly irritated at him for what he did. But hasn't he just helped her drive away the Japanese?

He looked at her, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "And didn't I tell you I'll return?"

Maria felt her eye twitch. He really did get on her nerves sometimes. Nothing changed about him, not a single feature. As for Maria, her hair was longer now, not nearly as long as before he left but long nonetheless. She glared at him. "I didn't want you to!"  
"Oh, I know you do. Besides, I wanted to."

"The gall of you! To think you had the audacity to return to my islands without official permission from me! Not only that but you used my men to gain intelligence on the enemy without me even knowing! And why do my men have to answer to y-" Maria stopped as she felt soft lips on hers and was stunned to see incredibly blue eyes staring at her chocolate brown ones at such proximity. He pulled away slightly and smiled at her, she was paralyzed; both confused about what just happened and confused on how she should react.

"You were so busy yapping on that I thought you might not notice it." He whispered. He looked at her, the grin on his face showed just how amused he was at how he can render her speechless. "If you don't react soon, I'm going to do it again."  
She pushed him away from her and stood up, turning her back on him. He was quick to follow though and was at her side in a heartbeat. He held her hand, she shrugged him off. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, she steered away from his reach. He nudged her playfully, she shoved him away with disgust on her face. Alfred sighed, realizing what must be done. "Oy, Maria. Don't tell me I have to court you the hard way." he whined. She turned away from him… then ran with as much speed as her legs will give her. "Guess so then." Alfred grumbled as he followed.

* * *

**A/N: Ahhhhhh, finally, the last chapter! This took me a bloody while because I didn't know how I was going to go through with it. Should I make it sad? Lovey-dovey? Funny? Choices, choices. Anyway, I hope you liked this fanfic.**


End file.
